The Bibi

The time has come. I am so done with this pacifier thing, Little's "bibi." The past several nights, off and on, we've awoken at the wee hours of the morning to cries of "bibi! bibi!" and sobs because the stupid thing fell on the floor and Miss Obedient won't get out of her bed even to rescue it from its fall. So up I go, at 3am, to rescue the bibi so the precious child can go back to sleep. It has even happened as late as 6:30am, with a return to sleep for both of us (and gratitude from me for more sleep). But how much longer can this go on? Last night, she woke up three times looking for it. The first time (2am), she had rolled on top of it and had it in her mouth by the time I got up the stairs. The second time (3am), she cried, then got quiet, so I assumed she found it, and fortunately I didn't have to get up but I did wake up. The third time (6am), Paul went up and found it under her bed. All three times, I was deep in dreamland, making it impossible to wake up pleasantly and feeling rested. This has got to stop. I think the next time we go to visit my parents, we are going to "forget" it at home, and she will just have to deal with it... and so will we. I just don't know how else to do it, but she's two years old now and while at times I don't mind that she uses it--after all, it has been relegated to be exclusively used for sleeping in bed--I just don't think I can continue to get up to find the stupid thing in the middle of the night. I don't have an infant. I don't want a second child (yet, if ever). I should be sleeping soundly all night (unless Little is sick). The bibi has got to go.

Another milestone in the growing up process. We'll see if it works. If so, next up: potty training. Oh boy.